Sleep Mode
by moss28
Summary: Tron thinks he's the Energizer Bunny. Ram begs to differ.


The round of games had been endless. It had begun when he was herded off to a team light cycle match right after the startup energy rations were distributed, and from there he'd barely had a chance to process anything as he was moved from one match to the next. By the time the Reds finally came to escort him back to his cell, every pixel of Ram's shell was aching. His right arm felt ready to drop off after two Jai Alai matches that had only been broken up by a round in the disc arena, and he rubbed his shoulder blearily as he was processed along the cell block. The closest he'd come to a moment of rest had been sitting on his light cycle during the one-on-one competition that had just finished. It was enough to make the floor of his cell sound like the most appealing place in the system, and he could hardly wait for the chance to power down.

The guards didn't have to make much of an effort in guiding the actuary; he'd been lead up and down the rows of cells more times than he cared to count. His own little cubicle was instantly recognizable thanks to the lines of tally marks along the wall, and he almost felt relieved when he was finally back inside. Ram made it a few steps before he flopped rather ungracefully to the ground, his helmeted head leaning against the partition between his cell and the next.

"Long millicycle?"

His only response was a tired groan, but he shifted himself slowly around to get a better view of the speaker in the next cell. The other program seemed faintly amused by the over exaggerated display of agony, but Ram couldn't miss the glint of concern in his eyes.

"Thought I was gonna derezz on my feet on the way back here," he muttered in response. "I think Sark's starting to play favorites."

Tron snorted and looked away for a moment, but not before Ram could catch sight of his frown. It was common knowledge in the pit cells that the little actuarial program had been there longer than most. Longer than he _should_ have been. Programs weren't meant to last in the games, after all, and his continued survival was an act of resistance all in itself. Sark must have caught on, because Ram's game time had been increased exponentially as of late. Even Tron saw less action than he did, and the security monitor had been on a busy schedule, too. In his case, it was because Sark and the MCP were clearly trying to wear him down. The commander was probably still bitter over Tron's outright refusal to join the Reds, and it was likely that the MCP hadn't taken too kindly to it, either.

But, as Tron often pointed out, he was designed for combat and action. Ram, on the other hand, was not. They'd hardly known each other for long, but already they'd developed a friendly rapport. Each time Ram was hauled off to the gaming grid, he could see the stoic coldness that came over the warrior's face, as though he were bracing himself for the time when the actuary didn't return.

"What about you? Sark still peeved over that stunt you pulled in the last disc match?" he asked, a grimace contorting his features as he tried to find a more comfortable sitting position. The question seemed to pull Tron out of whatever deep thoughts he'd gotten himself lost in, and he answered without looking back at Ram.

"If it's not that, I'm sure he's got a list of reasons to eliminate me. He's had it out for me since I refused his first offer, and that's not going to change."

At the declaration, Ram smiled. If there was anyone who could defy Sark and emerge victorious, it would be Tron. His unwavering faith in the Users made him an immediate enemy of the MCP, but his dedication and his abilities meant that he was the closest thing the conscripts had to a champion. With a stretch and a sigh, Ram settled himself more comfortably against the wall of his cell. Though the guards hadn't announced it yet, he knew that the designated downtime was imminent, and he was eager to get as much time in sleep mode as he could manage. He was about to offer a parting comment to Tron when he noticed the faint flicker of the monitor's circuits, and anything he was prepared to say died away in his processors.

Tron was standing, which was typical, but Ram had been too exhausted to notice the way he was slumped against the far wall of his cell. His posture was unusual, compared to the always-ready stance he usually assumed. For once, Tron looked genuinely tired. It suddenly occurred to Ram that he'd never actually _seen_ his neighbor power down before. He was always still awake when Ram was shutting down, and he was, invariably, the first to be up and running.

"Hey, you," the smaller program called. Tron shifted his gaze from the entrance of his cell over to Ram, and his weariness became even more apparent when the actuary got a good look at his face. "When was the last time you powered down, anyway?"

"You need to rest, Ram."

"Yeah, and so do you," he countered pointedly, the evasion of the question having not gone unnoticed. "Now answer my question, or I'll just assume that you never actually-"

"I don't."

" _What_?"

Tron huffed in annoyance and fixed his attention back on the outside environment as he straightened up, as though he were trying to prove that he was perfectly fine. But Ram wasn't buying it, and he wasn't about to let the matter drop, either.

"Seriously, you _never_ power down? I know we get energy rations, but they're hardly enough to keep a Bit going. How haven't you crashed yet?"

"I was designed for endurance," Tron replied simply, clearly trying to brush off Ram's worries. "Going into standby between matches is enough."

"Nuh-uh, there is no _way_ you'll be able to keep going like that. Just sit down and sleep, will you? It's not like anything catastrophic is gonna happen while you're out."

At that, the monitor's expression hardened slightly, and Ram knew he'd said something out of line. But he wondered about his mistake for only a moment before the truth occurred to him. Tron probably didn't feel _safe_ enough to power down. Security programs were meant to keep watch over a system, after all, and no doubt being in a place that was crawling with threats meant that he felt the need to constantly be on high alert. Ram was aware of how seriously the other program took his function, and he was probably making some misguided attempt at fulfilling it by denying himself even a moment of being off guard.

"I can keep watch," Ram offered immediately after thinking through the situation. Tron frowned, but that wasn't an outright refusal, so he took it as a cue to elaborate. "Please, Tron, I'm serious. I'll keep running and you get some rest. If anything happens, I can wake you up, alright?"

"No, Ram," Tron insisted, and Ram had to hold himself back from rolling his eyes. "You said it yourself, you've been through a lot. I won't ask you to-"

" _You're_ not asking _me_ ; _I'm_ telling _you_. Go to sleep, Tron, and I promise you'll be the first to know if something goes wrong."

Ram was almost certain that he'd just be met with another argument (or defiant silence), but surprisingly, the monitor just nodded slowly. His compliance was a testament to just how worn out he must have been. As he settled in the corner of his cell, Ram sat up to prevent himself from accidentally dozing off. He could tell that Tron was watching him, waiting for some sign that the actuary was too tired and too pained to go through with the arrangement. But he made sure to show no outward signs of discomfort. Soon enough, Tron's eyes slid shut and his circuits dimmed as he began powering down. Just as Ram was sure his neighbor was well and truly asleep, he was surprised by a quiet little _thank you_ from the cell beside him.

"What are friends for?" he murmured in reply, and the small smile that pulled at Tron's lips as he slipped into sleep mode was worth all the troubles of the games combined.


End file.
